This year I’m preaching on the three
trees through the triduum of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday.
Last night was about the tree of knowledge, tonight is naturally on the cross,
and Easter Sunday is on the tree of life. However, tonight could also be about
three trees in a different light—the three crosses. In the Gospel of Luke Jesus
has a conversation with the criminals who are hanging on the cross on either
side of him. Three crosses: In the middle you have the son of God, through him
we have eternal life and on one side you have a criminal who mocks Jesus for
not saving them. He is one who has lived his life assuming that the things of
this world are what there is. In a way he is the tree of knowledge personified.
On the other side, you have a criminal who begs for mercy, saying, “Jesus
remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus’ response: “Today you will
be with me in Paradise” hints that these trees are not all there is. Between
both stands the cross that bore Jesus. The more I think about it; I don’t think
any of this is accidental.
John’s Gospel—the one we read
tonight—goes so far out of its way to demonstrate that all of this is planned,
orchestrated, and necessary; that Jesus walked this road willingly because we
could not. The cross is needed to bridge the criminal on the left and the
criminal on the right. They’re all guilty—that’s not the question!—it’s whether
anything can save us, all of us, who are guilty. The cross is the tree that
bridges the divide between what we are and what we can be once more.
From the moment we tasted the fruit
of the tree of knowledge we have sought to become like God. We have set our
stock on that tree, and that tree has given us so many little nuggets to keep
us happy; it’s taught us how the world works, how to accumulate things, how to
make friends. It’s given us just enough of a taste to keep us coming back. It
is our drug, our addiction. Our desire—above all other desires—is to be like
God.